


It's Left Me So Undone

by Writingwife83



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, I love you scene aftermath, Light Angst, POV Molly Hooper, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 03:52:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11028054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingwife83/pseuds/Writingwife83
Summary: The emotional aftermath of the ILY phone call for Molly Hooper turns out to be positive in some ways as she realizes it's finally time to start fresh. And it turns out she's not the only one ready to try something new.**2nd place winner in the 2017 SAMFA for Best Angst in K-T**





	It's Left Me So Undone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [likingthistoomuch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likingthistoomuch/gifts).



> Filling a prompt for likingthistoomuch who thought that the lyrics for "Shake It Out" by Florence + The Machine fit Molly really well for her feelings after The Phone Call. Previously posted on tumblr. ;)

Molly’s fingers lost their grip on her mobile phone and it clattered onto her kitchen counter. She jumped slightly but didn’t bother to pick it back up, instead covering her trembling lips with her hands while gulping back silent sobs.

As anyone tends to do after an emotionally charged conversation or confrontation, Molly began desperately trying to replay it in her mind; trying to solidify and retain the details as best she could and understand it all fully. And often, after an experience like that, one would naturally tend to bring to mind the things they _wish_ they’d said in hindsight. But strangely enough for Molly...

Not this time.

For one of the first times in the many long and winding years of history with Sherlock Holmes, Molly felt an overwhelming sense of peace and relief. Which was at first perplexing to her, considering the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.

As she sniffled in shakes breaths and swiped at her face to wipe the moisture away though, she began to realize that the tears weren’t so much sorrow as a simple emotional release. The sort of release that came from lifting a long carried weight from your shoulders and throwing it off along with all the cares that went with it.

No more regrets, nothing unsaid to haunt her during sleepless nights anymore. It was all spoken aloud, she realized while thinking about her end of the conversation. In fact, she couldn’t believe how much honesty had been packed into that tiny little phone call. She was blown away now when thinking of all that had tumbled from her lips without the benefit of forethought. Somehow just the right words had been said. Especially in comparison with some of the darker times in her past with Sherlock.

_Is this one of your stupid games?_

_Why are you doing this? Why are you making fun of me?_

_I’m not an experiment, Sherlock._

_You bastard._

_You say it. Go on, you say it first. Say it. Say it like you mean it._

_I love you._

Molly let out a heavy breath and actually laughed aloud for just a moment. Some more tears fell as her lips lifted in a shaky smile that was for nobody but her...and pride slowly began to swell in her chest, warm and comforting.

Toby wound around her legs and silently mewed up at her. She mindlessly bent to scratch his head for a moment while still contemplating all that had just happened. As she straightened up again, she glanced at the cup of tea and pushed it aside with a smirk, reaching instead for her celebratory red wine.

Molly poured herself a glass of the dark and velvety liquid and strolled out of her kitchen and toward the bathroom, Toby following at her heels.

“You coming too? Mummy’s going to take a nice bath,” she said with a smile.

* * *

 

She let out a contented sigh, leaning her head back against the rolled up towel serving as a head rest as she lifted an arm from the water, murky from the bath salts, to view the puckered skin that was developing on her fingers. She didn’t care though. Molly could swear she hadn’t felt this light and free in years.

Her heart had gotten a much needed restart that evening.

No, she didn’t believe that her love for Sherlock Holmes had magically flown away the moment the words had left his lips and hers. But there was an aspect of that love that had. The part that held her captive and left her forever deprived, wanting, and unsure. The part that made her wonder ‘what if?’ And the part that forever plagued her with whether she’d missed a chance that would never come around again. _That_ was what she’d finally shaken off.

And it felt magnificent.

It was dark by the time Molly finally climbed out of the water, her limbs deliciously relaxed and her skin feeling luxuriously smooth, especially after she applied her favorite lotion. And she even slipped into something special to sleep in that night. She only chose to wear that silky button down sleep shirt when she was feeling especially confident and maybe even a little sexy. And somehow it felt really good to put it on tonight, turn off the lights in the rest of her flat, and slip under the covers of her bed early.

She propped herself up and set her mobile phone to play one of her more uplifting playlists as she also opened her laptop. And for some reason, her eyes almost instantly fell on a file saved to her home screen that was labeled, ‘Get Away.’

Molly smiled, wondering what better time there was than right now to do what she’d been half heartedly planning for months and months. Yes, she did need to get away. She needed a vacation and she had more than enough time coming to her, as well as money that had been set aside for her previously planned honeymoon that was never to be and she’d somehow never had the heart to touch it. Not until now.

And so she bought plane tickets and booked herself the beautiful vacation in Ireland that she’d so badly wanted, not feeling the need to check with anyone or find out whether the end of the month was a good time to leave or not. It was a good time for her, and finally that was what mattered.

All plans finally having been made, she shut her laptop with a contented sigh and turned off the music on her mobile. She scratched Toby’s head who was purring next to her and softly kneading the comforter, and then slowly sunk down to rest her head on the pillow as she shut off her bedside lamp.

Molly spared a moment then, in the quiet and darkness, to think of Sherlock. She wondered what, if anything, that phone call had done to him. There was a large part of her that didn’t believe he was wholly unaffected by their exchanged words. In fact, he really did sound like he meant it. Perhaps he did. Perhaps there was at least just a little corner of Sherlock’s heart that loved her just as she loved him. If so, that felt like more than enough. Either way, she refused to be plagued with the ‘what ifs’ anymore.

That night, Molly Hooper had no trouble drifting off to sleep.

* * *

 

She was awoken a while later though, feeling the mattress dip down slightly with the added weight of another person. After a brief jolt of adrenaline, Molly exhaled in relief...because she quite easily recognized that breathing pattern.

She felt Sherlock scoot over under the covers, not far from her back, and then she heard him release a heavy breath. Molly didn’t turn at first, knowing the routine. Not to say that he slept with her in her bed _every_ time he stayed at her flat, but when he did she knew how to act and how not to.

Years ago, the first time he’d climbed into her bed with barely a word, she’d begun questioning him rapid fire about what he was doing and what was wrong and should she move and was there anything he needed...and on and on. But he’d shut her down, not harshly but just firmly. He made it clear that he simply needed to be there. As the months and years passed she began to see more of a pattern. He joined her in bed when he was troubled, when things weren’t ok, when he wasn’t ok. And the idea that he needed space was a bold faced lie that she told others and herself. No, he didn’t need space.

He needed _less space_ and _more close contact_.

Tonight though, Molly did consider turning and addressing his visit. It wasn’t just that she felt confident enough to do it, she actually felt entitled. But it ended up being Sherlock who made the first surprising move.

Molly’s breath hitched as she felt his arm encircle her middle and gently pull himself in flush against her back. At the same time he dipped his head, burying into the back of her neck and hair. The breathing that she felt against her skin was unsteady, and she began to realize that this wasn’t like any other time he’d hopped under the blankets beside her.

“Forgive me,” he murmured, hot against her neck.

Molly reached up and clutched at his arm around her, feeling how tense the muscles were.

“I do,” she whispered softly and nodded her head, and she felt his hold tighten with the bestowed forgiveness.

Molly didn’t want to stay just like that though, not anymore. With some effort, she turned over within his hold, facing him almost nose to nose. Her lips parted in a silent gasp when she did, because in the bit of moonlight she could see his eyes now; weary and worn from what looked like tears not long before.

“Sherlock,” she breathed, reaching up to place a hand on his cheek, thumb stroking the skin gently.

His eyes connected completely with hers then, and she saw something rather surprising. In some strange way, she saw another version of herself.

All that night she’d felt that this was a turning point; a time to let the demons from the past go and start fresh, no matter the brief suffering in doing so. What she hadn’t expected was to see the very same thing in Sherlock’s eyes. And it wasn’t just about them or their phone call. It was bigger. Bigger than both of them. Very possibly bigger than Sherlock was equipped to process at the moment, which he confirmed a split second later.

“Please, Molly, please don’t ask. Not tonight,” he requested in a whisper. “Please just...be here.”

Molly nodded silently which tipped her head forward a bit more, causing their noses to actually touch now. And suddenly, like a wave crashing over her from her toes to her head, she realized that she desperately wanted to do more than just ‘be there.’

He must have felt the same thing, because his hand began to slide from around her back to the curve of her waist, his fingers digging in a bit through the fabric of her sleep shirt. And then his face tilted forward…

At the first touch of his lips to hers, she actually felt him pull back momentarily, almost in the same way that you’d pull your foot back from overheated bath water. But in the same way that the pull to the warmth always wins out, coaxing you to step in fully despite the initial sting of the heat, Sherlock’s lips almost immediately came back for more, quickly overcoming the unfamiliarity to sink into hers completely.

Molly sucked in a breath through her nose as she anchored an arm around his neck and parted her lips in unison with his. He pulled her in tighter, kissed her harder, and even slid his hand down her hip to the where the hem of her shirt fell at her thigh. She hooked her calf around his to hold him that little bit closer.

“You did mean it,” she murmured almost incoherently in a brief separation between their mouths as Sherlock tilted his head to the opposite side, and she felt him nod in answer before he took her mouth again.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, kissing and clinging to each other till they were lightheaded and breathless. But finally, a stillness settled in again and they rested their foreheads together, sharing the same air while still holding tight.

“Sherlock,” she began in an unsteady whisper. And despite there being plenty of other statements and questions that would have been completely appropriate at the moment, that wasn’t what came out next. Perhaps those other things could be saved for tomorrow. Instead, she simply said…

“Wanna come to Ireland with me in two weeks?”

For a few moments there was silence, only the sound of Sherlock still catching his breath. Maybe the Molly Hooper from long ago would have instantly taken back the offer and apologized for even speaking the words. But not anymore. _No more regrets_ , she reminded herself with a smile. And her patience was rewarded with his whispered answer a second later.

“More than anything.”

 


End file.
